


settle me, settle you

by matskreider



Series: tumblr prompts [4]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Bad Parenting, M/M, Trans Male Character, trans!Mats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-27 14:16:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13249968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/matskreider/pseuds/matskreider
Summary: Chris is home for all of 30 seconds before Mats is coming downstairs with a carefully guarded expression on his face. He waits just long enough for Chris to take his jacket off before burrowing into his chest and sighing, shaky and uncertain, into the fabric of his sweater. Strong arms wrap around him, pulling him in close, and he wonders what the hell happened while he was gone. Chris waits for a few moments, and then he hears Mats mumble, “You smell good.”It gets him a soft laugh, before Chris leans back enough to say, “Thank you, I try for that every day. You okay though?”Mats looks up at him, wide eyes looking tired, if not tearful, even as he shakes his head. “Mom called today.”





	settle me, settle you

Chris is home for all of 30 seconds before Mats is coming downstairs with a carefully guarded expression on his face. He waits just long enough for Chris to take his jacket off before burrowing into his chest and sighing, shaky and uncertain, into the fabric of his sweater. Strong arms wrap around him, pulling him in close, and he wonders what the hell happened while he was gone. Chris waits for a few moments, and then he hears Mats mumble, “You smell good.”

It gets him a soft laugh, before Chris leans back enough to say, “Thank you, I try for that every day. You okay though?”

Mats looks up at him, wide eyes looking tired, if not tearful, even as he shakes his head. “Mom called today.”

Chris groans inwardly, already knowing how this went. Mats’ mom wasn’t necessarily the most supportive, but she didn’t hesitate to use her “child” – she refused to call Mats her son – to prove that she wasn’t a bigot. It…wasn’t the nicest of relationships, and calls from her always drained Mats. So he picks Mats up, getting no protests from the Norwegian, and carries him over to their bed, curling up under the covers with him. Sometimes he wanted to talk about it afterwards, and sometimes he didn’t.

Today, it seemed like a “hug the empty husk of my boyfriend and hope he comes back soon” kind of day. So Chris does, pulling Mats in close and hugging him tightly. “You know I love you,” he murmurs after a few moments of silence. “So fucking much. The boys do too, in a different way. And you belong. You always have.”

Mats grabs fistfuls of his sweater, but doesn’t say anything else for a good long while. Chris, having said his piece, is content to relax in bed with him, in silence. Eventually, their apartment turns orange from the glow of the setting winter sun. Chris is awake, as calm as he can be knowing that Mats is somewhere, deep inside right now, and it’s up to him when he chooses to speak again.

“Mats,” he murmurs softly. “We need to eat something. I’m gonna go grab some food, okay? Think we have leftovers I can reheat.” Mats doesn’t respond, he didn’t think he would, and when he tries to slide out of Mats’ embrace, he lets him. He kisses his forehead as he departs, wandering into the kitchen and hoping he doesn’t have to do too much.

In the end, he only finds some leftover steak, which is too heavy for Chris, but maybe Mats would want some? He closes the fridge and looks over to ask, but instead Mats is there, holding a blanket around his shoulders. He hopes he covers his jump of surprise, but Mats’ blank expression doesn’t do much to answer.

“We have steak, or I could make pancakes or something…?”

“…pancakes are fine,” Mats mumbles, shuffling closer and leaning against Chris. He wraps an arm around him as he moves sideways, pulling out the stuff he needed with one hand.

“Want blueberries or anything in them?” He feels Mats shake his head against his chest, and he nods, setting to work. Somehow, he’s able to make a pretty damn good batch of pancakes, and he takes their plates and the syrup that Mats likes – the real stuff, as opposed to the sugary fake stuff that Chris was raised on – over to the bed. They sit on the edge, legs spread onto the floor towards the windows as they eat.

It takes a little bit longer of peaceful eating before Mats sets his plate aside and snuggles back up to Chris. “…Am I an idiot for thinking that she’s ever going to listen to me? And, like…actually care?” Mats mumbles, and Chris’ heart breaks.

“No, no, babe. Not at all. It’s normal to hope that your mom will come around.”

“I just feel like…hoping for that is so stupid.”

“If you’re stupid for hoping for that, then mark me down as a downright ignoramus,” Chris responds. At that, Mats snorts and looks up at him.

“I think you made up that word. But…wait why do you say that?”

“Babe, I see how much it hurts you every time. Of course I’m going to hope that she comes around. I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

Mats is quiet, and when Chris looks down, he’s wiping his eyes with the blanket wrapped around his shoulders. “I hate you for making me so emotional.”

“No, you don’t. But I meant it. If you’re an idiot, I’m an idiot. We’re the co-presidents of the Idiot Club. Tell Brady and Jimmy to watch out, we’re gunning for their title,” Chris says, and  _that_  gets an approximation of the laugh Chris had been waiting all day to hear.

“Love you, Chris.”

“Love you too, short stuff.”

**Author's Note:**

> as always, hmu on tumblr: [new url, same me](http://matskreider.tumblr.com/)


End file.
